


La Douleur Exquise

by bluelionsbish



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelionsbish/pseuds/bluelionsbish
Summary: A day of beauty is dimmed in the light of where her heart truly lies.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Annette Fantine Dominic/Mercedes von Martritz, Annette Fantine Dominic/Reader, Claude von Riegan/Reader, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Reader, Mercedes von Martritz/Reader, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	La Douleur Exquise

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING:  
> Non-Con/Rape insinuations/references.  
> Mental anguish and abuse implications.
> 
> To all those who clicked on this: Hewwo. I have not written in a long time and it feels like my brain is a mess of spider webs, so I'm getting back into the swing of things (and this fandom) thanks to a dream I had recently. Literally I just dictated my dream lmao. My motto is still "no beta, we die like glenn" so...HAVE FUN LOL
> 
> alt title: _Green Eyes_

La Douleur Exquise

The soft glow of the candle light, reflected in the tarnished mirror, appears muddy.

Outside the sky is clear and blue. The daylight hardly peers over the edge of the window, seeing as it is slightly before midday, leaving the room dark despite the cheer that rises from the streets below.

And great cheer there is. For today marks the afternoon of a grand wedding, and the kingdom rejoices in the fact they would soon be granted a queen to reign alongside their king. The festivities are in full swing, with raucous laughter playfully flitting through the halls, and the smells of sweet confections wafting up on the breeze from the vendors beneath the windowsill. It is a day to be joyous. Although it seems that within me, there is little joy at all.

Gazing into the mirror, I find there is no recognition to be held. With fastened hair and painted lips, poised in a stark white gown weighing more in jewels than that of a child, a queen stares back at me. She regards me with a cold gaze, expression changing from weariness to anger, then back again, every time the flame from the candle flickers.

The bodice is tight, and I feel like a puppet on strings.

  
  


Alone for the moment, I smooth my hands along the floor length veil I am to wear. As I glance once more up into the mirror I hear soft footfalls, and the king approaches me. Though I see, in that ever murky reflection, that he is not the king I am to wed.

The relief that floods me has my knees knock together, and I ask him in hushed tones to help me with the bindings of my gown. He comes close enough that I feel his breath on my neck. As he loosens the bodice ever so slightly, my chest feels exceedingly less tight, but he continues on—plucking them apart, one by one, every lace that holds my corset together. Down, down, down, the dress falls to the floor, and I do nothing to stop it.

I crane my neck to see him, shadowed still by the small light of the flame. His gaze is fixated on the sheerness of my sheath, and then it travels downwards, where his hands now glide up to my waist. His fingertips are warm and calloused against my skin. I look at his face: green eyes glittering, but his smile is nowhere to be found.

  
  


"Do you truly want this?" He murmurs, "Are you happy with him?"

I catch my breath, caught between telling him the truth or weaving a lie, "I...no."

A pause.

"He frightens me," I admit.

His grip tightens. His lips ghost the shell of my ear.

I shift, "Claude, you mustn't."

  
  


Although my affections for him run deep, and I feel myself balancing woefully on the precipice of giving into my love; I hold back and bite out, "It is indecent. I am set to be a married woman, now."

He chuckles a bit, voice but a whisper as he kisses just below my ear, "If you were truly displeased, would you have let me hold you like this?" I squirm as he traces the lines of my hips, his touch leaving goosebumps.

"I can still take you with me," he offers. He offers this despite knowing my answer, despite knowing the risks that would entail my desertion.

"And what would you do, once you have incited another war?" I shake my head, "We both know this peace is precious, and precarious."

Claude all but sniffs at the statement, gaze still gentle, "The Holy Kingdom has done much in its reform. Surely 'giving you away to a foreign crown'-" he mocks Dimitri's earlier words, "-would be another welcome change."

He places his lips to my neck again, and my mind races.

  
  


In an effort to keep our hard-fought serenity, I have been bound to Dimitri. Apart from Byleth, the only human to ever have been able control the king's rages, to slay his demons and bring light to his eyes, has been myself. With Byleth now a central figure in the church, there was left only person to tame Dimitri's beast-like tendencies. The solution was not as simple as finding another man to rule, as Dimitri needed to be king. Both by right and by symbolism. He has been able to show the people there is hope even after seemingly insurmountable darkness, and as he comes from a line of royalty, trained in the ways of ruling a kingdom, there is no other to be crowned—Claude knows this. I know this. I am loyal to the man who sits on the Faerghus throne, and yet...

I blink, and my thoughts change once more. I think of the war, and how, despite Edelgard being dead, many still hold her ideals, and just as many detest the church; though with Byleth as Archbishop, and his known ties to the king, there is now hope that things will begin to change. The Adrestian Empire is no more. The lords and nobles of the Empire have become part of Faerghus, as have Alliance lands. With this, I know that Claude will soon depart for Almyra. If I were to run with him, knowing of his lineage, and with Almyran ties already frayed, another war between us would be inevitable.

  
  


I have no desire to watch the suffering of any one nation, nor do I wish to face him on the battlefield.

We both know this, but even _still_ , my heart secretly yearns for something more.

  
  


I know Dimitri is not in love with me, and yet I remain. I stay because I wish for peace. Though, perhaps, it is more apt when I admit I only remain because I am a prisoner to my duty, caged as a bird and nothing more.

Yes, Dimitri is not in love with me, this much is certain. I am a toy. A mouse before a lion; marked with fingerprints on my throat and bruises on my thighs. Mercie and Annette do nothing but look at them in shame as they cover my darkened skin with salve and makeup.

  
  


In a perfect world, with a healthy king, I would have found love with Claude—in his bed and in his lands. But Dimitri is possessive, and while he may not love me, he now owns me. So I remain at his side, praying that my presence will be enough to keep the beast restrained. Praying that I will simply be _enough._

Claude thinks it foolish. He loves me, and I him—and to subject myself to pain to ensure such fragile peace makes him wonder what the point of all our strife was for. What the war was for, if no one person had the freedom to do as they wished.

Where was this peace?

  
  


Claude brings his hand up to my neck; rests his open palm at the base of my throat and sighs into my hair. I can feel him behind me still, steady and unwavering.

"I'm sorry," it falls near silently from his lips,"I am sorry this war has yet to end for you. All I have ever wanted is to keep you safe, and yet—" he laughs mirthlessly, "and yet you are the furthest you've ever been from my reach. Away from my arms, and into the embrace of someone who may yet destroy you."

I let my head roll back. It lands on Claude's shoulder, and I look up at him.

His beautiful green eyes, swirling with guilt, laden with empty promises. They are now rimmed with red.

I turn around and let my sheath float to the ground.

  
  


It has been some time since I went to change. Annette and Mercie would soon be looking for me to add the finishing touches to both my makeup and dress before the ceremony began.

This means I only have a few moments.

I bring my hands up to Claude's face. I tenderly trace the contours of his cheeks. He leans into my touch and closes his eyes. I stand on my tiptoes and encircle my arms around his neck, one hand resting firmly in his dark locks.

His lips are just as warm as the hands that rest on the small of my back. He pulls me closer, kisses me ever so softly, leaving me wanting more before he is suddenly gone.

  
  


A knock on the door startles me out of my thoughts.

  
  


I look to the mirror, reflection now somehow clear. I am in my wedding dress, bodice firmly in place and laces properly tied. A veil covers my face.

Annette bounces in. She is smiling but it does not quite reach her eyes. Felix, etiquette be damned, stands behind her, scowling.

Annette is chirping about how mesmerizing I appear to be, angelic in the white of my gown. She gives me a calculative look, moves a few jewels around, and fluffs my train.

Felix only stares.

He is one of the few who understands the depths of Dimitri's sickness.

  
  


He holds out my bouquet, then offers me his arm.

Annette goes silent.

  
  


He leans into my space, fixes my veil as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

He mutters, "You don't have to do this."

I am suddenly very grateful for the tight grip he has on my arm.

"I must."

  
  


He blinks, resigned. He then shakes his head, guiding us towards two ornate doors. Just behind them stands Dimitri. Just behind them, there are pews filled with familiar faces, _beloved_ faces, whom I offer myself for their continued peace. He stops once more. One last time.

"Just say the word. Give me a sign, and my sword is at his throat."

Felix's words are dark. I know there is truth to them; he means what he says. Just as I know he is relieved that the secret of the boar is no longer his cross to bare.

  
  


The music starts. I draw myself up, standing tall. The guards push open the doors.

  
  


There is a part of me that wants to flee. The desire is so strong it has me halting in place.

But I look at Felix's concerned features, and Annette's careful stare.

  
  


I steel myself and take a step forward. Towards my future, and away from green eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> do you guys know how awful it was thinking i was marrying claude in my dream and then looking at dimitri's cheesy face at the end of it all


End file.
